Humour « Barrier Free

Posts Tagged: Humour

I didn’t need to hear that

It’s amazing how often people talk as if I’m not there. It happened yesterday, when I was in my local cafe.

My powerchair has a large pouch on one arm. It’s my multi-purpose receptacle. As I go about my daily business, everything goes in there. Train tickets, credit cards, receipts, change, plastic bags, several phones, tools and assorted extras. My wife’s handbag has nothing on my pouch! On this day, sitting in the cafe alone, I decided to tidy my pouch.

At a table directly across from me sat a group; a family with mum, dad and two young kids. One child was a toddler, intent on exploring his world and keeping his parents very busy. In a pram was a tiny baby, perhaps only a month old. I remember that life stage. It’s not easy. The dad, in particular, was run ragged. After a short time they were joined by the mum’s parents. She was Malaysian and spoke with almost no accent. Her partner was a New Zealander. They were discussing where they should settle. The dad was concerned that, if they stayed in Australia, he would be stuck in a sales role his whole life. His partner was informing him that he had responsibilities and couldn’t simply choose what he wanted. ‘You New Zealander’s have no work ethic’ she chastised him. Her parents seemed to have more limited English but every now and then they nodded in agreement with their daughter’s points.

I have to admit, I felt sorry for the bloke. He was chasing his toddler all over the cafe, and each time he returned to grab a sip of his coffee or a bite of his toasted sandwich, the topic had moved on to another of his weaknesses. Occasionally he would offer a word of disagreement, but then his toddler would dash, he would follow, and his wife would continue on topic. So mostly it was his wife talking, and her parents nodding. But I could tell he wasn’t happy. He looked increasingly hurt, and embarrassed as the minutes passed and the topic didn’t change. I was only a metre or two away; I could hear every word.

All the time this was going on, I was unloading my pouch contents onto the table and slowly consuming my coffee. There was a lot of change. I had it piled up in denominations on the table in front of me. It’s amazing how fast $1 and $2 coins add up. It was time well spent. The group beside me had now finished. As they packed up, I heard the dad comment to the others ‘I guess we don’t have it so bad. We’re luckier than that guy trying to scrape together enough coins to pay for his coffee.’ On that, they all agreed.

Observations / travel — No Comments
20
Oct 10

Be Careful What You Wish For

A funny thing happened on Tuesday afternoon. That was the same day I’d had my Heckler article published in the SMH (see Sorry, Mate, below) and, among other topics, had criticised drivers for saying ‘sorry’ to me when I thoughtlessly cross the road in front of them.

I was out walking the dog again, and received a message from my wife that my son was already home from school and waiting at the front door with his driver. I wasn’t far from home, but I wasn’t there, so I had to hurry.

Blossom (the dog) was keen for a run, so we covered the last 2 blocks at full speed, and had only to cross the last road to be at our house. As we crossed the road, in my peripheral vision I could see a car turning into the street, but cars always stop for me. Hell, they stop and apologise for just being on the road. But I’ll admit, I didn’t stop and really look. I kept on and crossed the road.

Now, the car was perhaps a little closer than I had anticipated, but we missed each other comfortably enough. As usual, he wound down his window and shouted several words. ‘Sorry’ was not among them. It can be hard to discern all the words shouted from a moving car but I caught ‘idiot’ and ‘statistic’, each preceded by an extended form of the most popular four-letter-word in the English language.

I wonder if he’d just finished reading my article. I he had, I’ll call that one an instant success!

Observations — 1 Comment
19
Oct 10

Sorry, mate

This piece, previously published on Barrier Free, was Tuesday’s Heckler column in the SMH. Link to it here or read it below.

Why do people constantly apologise to me? If I dash across a road in front of a car, chances are the driver will wind down the window and shout ‘sorry’. If I bump into a pram on a busy street, and wake a baby, the mother will usually say ‘sorry’. If I run over a man’s toe in the isle of a shop, he too will offer ‘sorry’. Sorry for what? Just for being there I guess.

It doesn’t stop at sorry. I also get called ‘mate’ and ‘matey’. Not so bad? Mate is defined by context in Australian English. ‘G’day mate’ is always a relaxed greeting, whereas ‘turn the music down mate’ spoken through a locked screen is one step short of threats of physical violence. With me, it is usually coupled with ‘how are you feeling mate?’. And, when spoken in a gentler tone than regular speech and often accompanied by stroking my hand or a reassuring palm on my shoulder, it feels a little like I’m living in an endless rerun of Andrew Denton’s brilliant 1990 program The Year of the Patronising Bastard.

Now, it’s admission time. I do look a bit odd. Due to my medical condition, I use a wheelchair. Due to weakness in my facial muscles, I have a fixed expression, somewhere between startled and bored. When I think of something funny I let out a big, inexplicable, laugh. I can’t talk.

A few weeks ago, I was walking the dog, using my chair, as I do most days. As I need my good left arm to drive the chair, I walk the dog on my right. A cyclist dashed past, hurrying as if he was late for a Tony Abbott look-alike contest, and shouted to me ‘tiges, you should have her on the left’. Tiges? Short for Tiger I guess. When was the last time you heard a 44–year-old able-bodied man called ‘Tiger’? A while, I suspect.

My take on all this? I think ‘sorry’ is just a natural reaction to any minor collision or near-miss with a wheelchair. People assume it must be their fault. It’s not, but it’s understandable. Mate depends on the user and the context. Genuine mates get a pass. But others should be cautious – especially with the tone and the touching. Do you regularly touch pregnant women on the belly without asking? Matey is worse. It’s akin, I think, to men who insist on calling all women ‘girls’ or ‘love’. It’s best avoided.

And my friend in lycra? Sorry, mate, you’re a twerp.

Access policy / Observations / Sydney events / travel — No Comments
20
Jun 10

Spotted Today in Summer Hill

Where's your sticker?

Now, I don’t mean to say there should not be police with disabilities driving around in patrol cars, but IF there are, this one didn’t have a sticker.

Observations / travel — No Comments
16
Jun 10

The Long Way Home

This story occurred a few years ago, when I both drove and spoke (though neither especially well). I’ve been meaning to share it for some time. The launch of Barrier Free has given me the forum to finally do so. Enjoy!

The day started simply enough. I needed to visit Concord Hospital to have some stitches removed, so, knowing how bad parking was there, I left my car at home and took a taxi to the hospital, intending to return later to pick it up. I was early, the appointment was on time, and I even found time for a coffee with an old work colleague I ran into in the lobby. I headed out of the lobby and a wheelchair cab was just dropping off a passenger. I was on fire! At this rate I’d be at work early.

As we headed along Concord Road on the 15 minute trip home, the driver saw a car pull out from a side street. He braked hard, perhaps a little harder than was required, and we jolted to a stop. He had just motioned ‘sorry’ to me in the back when we heard the screech of tyres and then felt a hard bang into the back of the taxi. Someone had run up our rear end.

The driver got out of the taxi and walked to the side where the other driver met him. I heard him say ‘oh, the owner won’t like this mess’. And her reply ‘well, it’s not my fault’. From there the argument started. First shouting, then screaming, then she tried to kick him, then he tried to restrain her. Not a pretty sight. And the two cars are still parked in the middle of the road, while these two nutters go at it and the traffic builds up for miles behind us.

Eventually, the police arrived, first one officer on a motorbike and then a car load. Things eventually calmed down and the officers’ attention turns to me, still sitting (increasingly impatiently) in the back.

The policewoman spoke to me, slowly, very deliberately and somewhat louder than normal speech (no doubt assuming I was hard of hearing) ‘Sir, you’ve been in an accident. We’ve called an ambulance to take you to be checked at the hospital.’ I explained that I didn’t need an ambulance. I wasn’t hurt. I was just sick of waiting while this mess was sorted out. I needed to get to work. The policewoman then offered to arrange for a taxi to take me to work after the hospital. Again I said no thanks. I needed to go home and get my car. I would drive myself, thanks all the same. ‘You drive, Sir?’

I figured the best solution was for me to simply get out, find another taxi and continue my journey.

It was then that we realised the damage to the rear of the taxi had a terrible consequence. The back hatch would not open and I was stuck.

Eventually, with the help of two police officers and a passer-by, the hatch was opened, and it was reattached sufficiently for the further 10 minutes drive to my house, which was uneventful. As we unloaded, the driver informed me that because of the mess up he’d only charge me $20, rather than the normal fare of $30. My voice was a little worn from talking to the police so much but I think my cry of ‘WHAT!’ was heard in the next suburb. He left without charging me.

Relived it was finally over I loaded my chair into my car and headed off to work. I’d already missed one meeting. I turned off Parramatta Road and into West Street, Petersham, following a tray top van with a load of windows. As I did, a car came out of a side street and collected the window van immediately in front of me. They weren’t going fast, but there was a huge mess and glass everywhere.

Finally, I made it to my office carpark and stopped the car. I needed a moment to compose myself. I realised then that I had the radio tuned to an FM station I never normally listen to. A breathless traffic announcer was giving the wrap-up; talking loud over the chopper noise. ‘Well, it looks like that smash and fracas on Concord Road has finally cleared but now there’s a doozy at West Street Petersham with glass all over the road. You should avoid that one at all costs’. I followed his suggestion.

Observations — No Comments
3
Jun 10

The Perils of Being Awake on Trains…

Regular readers will recall that I no longer allow myself to sleep on trains; lest I be declared dead-on-arrival (see The Perils of Sleeping on Trains… posted 10 May 2010). Yesterday, I found a new peril – being awake. As we passed through each station a man in the cabin started asking me if each stop was mine. I shook my head each time; sufficient indication, I thought, that I knew where to get off. Then, at Milson’s Point, he left the train, waited, turned, and came back onto the train. He said to me ‘I’ll stay with you’. I assume he was concerned that I would not be able to get off the train, or find my stop alone, and decided to accompany me to my destination. Whatever his intentions, I decided he was not accompanying me to my office. He spoke little during the rest of the journey, but just before we reached my stop, he took 50c out of his pocket and put it in mine. He said ‘save it, for when you need it’. I tried to give it back, but all my advances were refused. We reached my stop and I exited the train without looking at him. I scooted to the lifts as fast as I could, and out of the station equally fast.

I told several people in my office of the encounter, and each said ‘oh, I guess he meant well’. I’m sure he did. But well-meaning for him was especially irritating for me. I can manage my commute alone. Perhaps I need a sign that says ‘I’m fine thanks’ or if they don’t back off ‘I don’t need any help’.

I’d welcome readers’ views.

Observations — No Comments
10
May 10

The Perils of Sleeping on Trains…

My train trip to the office takes about 40 minutes. The other day – caused partly by lack of caffeine – I decided to recline my chair and have a quick snooze. Just in case, I set my phone alarm for 30 minutes hence. I was aware of people coming and going from the car as we stopped at stations, so I must have been sleeping very lightly. I could hear people around me talking. Then, I heard one say ‘do you think he’s dead?’. I was surprised, amused, but chose not to open my eyes. As we pulled into Central, one of the chatterers jumped off the train and alerted an attendant – there was a dead man in a wheelchair on the train! This broke me out of my slumber, and I was very much awake. And alive. But it was too late. Railway staff were everywhere. I was asked by everyone if I now felt ok. I was told the ambulance was on the way. Thoroughly flustered, I managed to type ‘I am fine. I was ASLEEP’ and showed it to anyone who would look. Things calmed down, and everyone left. I closed my eyes, but not to sleep. I just wanted to be left alone.

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